LMC Journal No 14

SPRING
1956

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Šš R tnd ; H i Š i

LOMOND

MOUNTAINEERING CLUB

JOURNAL

EDITORIAL

For several months past I have been directing abuse at
the journal committee for their failure to produce a journal.
Unfortunately I made the mistake of trying their long standing
patience too far -and before I knew what was happening they co-
opted me as editor and told me to get on with it - serves me
right.

However, an order is an order - you asked for a journal
and here it is.

Thanks are due to non-members, George Devlin who designed
the cover and Miss M. Aitken who has been entirely responsible
for the large volume of typing required.

Thanks are also due to certain unsuspecting companies who
have, through the medium of their employees, supplied us with
a complete journal at no cost.

A Summer's Night on the Cobbler.

The Cobbler .. . . «Ehe mere mention of that hiii brings
backy>1I'tw sure, zalil sorts ofomemorieš to ous-all. Firstly; -i
think, its unusual shape conjures itself before the minds eye,
then the rock climbs, probably some of our earliest and most
enjoyed, and of course there is good company to be found
camping, usually on the flat grass covered shelves of rock in
the high corrie itself. It was in such a gathering that I
found myself one calm August afternoon in 1948; I’m quoting
dates here like a nostalgic centenarian, anyhow, it just
happened to be about then.

The sky was almost cloudless and as we lazed around the
tents, the warm sun soaked into every pore. Not a puff of wind
disturbed the scene. Far down below, Loch Long appeared as a
sheet of shimmering glass, serene and peaceful. If the gods in
their lofty perches of old had any greater sensation of well-
being I would, right then, have been surprised to hear it.

I think it was a few hours after we had come back from
climbing the “Recess” that we first noticed a slight haze over
the Loch. Everything else was quite clear, Ben Lomond and far
beyond was in fact clearer than before, but of course a haze
on a Loch after the heat of summer day is not so very unusual.
Time went by, during which we “drummed up” and tried a few
small climbs nearby, but eventually dusk put an end to these
strenuous activities and we resumed our former occupation of
admiring the view from the camp site; but wasn’t the view
rather different? Just where the mountain steepened to it’s
base, where so to speak, the Cobbler Corrie ends, there now
appeared to be a long grey dyke forming a perfect curve from
one side of the hill to the other. Dykes, after all, don’t
move (I hope) yet this one was moving; a moving wall of mist.

Up and up it came, still holding its formation, enabling
us to see over it a still clear vista of Ben Lomond and
beyond. For a moment or two I found the spectacle akin no
longer to a dyke but to the front line of a phantom Charge of
the Light Brigade and we the awestruck defenders behind the
barricades. However, I soon rejected this notion - nobody
charges up

the green road! Quite soon it was only yards from our stance,
then feet, then inches and appearing colossal in size - no
dyke now, more like Barlinnie’s walls, then absolute
visability nil. The tents were just decipherable and no more,
the show was over it seemed, so into the sacks for the night.

It was several hours later when shouts and hulloos were
heard from two members who had come up on a bus, and had
climbed into the ‘fug”. Attempts were made to reach them but
so thick was this mist that even voices were muffled and our
efforts to direct them met with little success. After a while,
to everyone’s relief, a reply came back that they had reached
the once celebrated “Martin's Doss” and the owner was playing
“Mine Host”, so by the purest luck we found our tent doors
once more and tried again for sleep, but it wasn’t to be.

Boom! Crump! Rump! (Thunder doesn’t make the next sound
you’re thinking of members). Vivid flashes were now lighting
up the sky and our heads were out of the tent doors once more.
Green flashes, blue flashes lit up the heavens; at times the
night sky was red and not to be out-done by it’s high Alpine
brethern the old Cobbler permitted an odd tongue of forked
lightning to play along it's craggy crest. The very.ground
beneath us now vibrated, giving rise to general uneasiness,
indeed at this point I dubiously wondered if a “strike”
somewhere high up could bring a deluge of rock hurtling down
On usi

Crash! The lightning flashed again and for a second I
could have shrieked, for the whole face of the Ramshead turned
a vivid green, it seemed to come to life, and glared
malignantly down with blazing yellow eyes. Then all went dark,
the noisegrew distant and soon all was silent but for a steady
beat of rain on canvas.

We awoke next morning to clear skies with only the
slightest trace of mist vanishing among the nearby hills. Over
breakfast we exchanged impressions of the storm, and learned
that someone, I think Mr. Davie Martin himself, had attempted
to photograph the nocturnal display but whether or not he was
successful I have never yet found out.

Climbing was soon again in progress and the nights events
forgotten, but to me it was the night our mythological friend
the Cobbler, got cracking on his last!

Vs Brown.

ZINA 7 ROTHORN «13,650 «Ft.

Having climbed the Plattenhorner, and the Rifflehorn we
set off for the Rothorn hut on Thursday, July 14%.

The way lies up the Trift Gorge by the track on the left
bank of the stream. Making excellent progress we climbed the
steep part and entered the fairly level stretch as the sun
gained height. Walking steadily, yet still having time to look
at the wonderful scenery, we were impressed by the steepness
of the hills on either side.

After passing the Trift: Hotel, the route goes. steeply
uphill on the crest of a morraine. The hut is perched below
the South east Ridge of the Rothorn. This ridge is a spur
which abuts onto the East Ridge. We reached the hut just
before the weather broke and partieB arriving later were
soaked.

On Friday, starting at 6 a.m.,(because of the weather, we
climbed the Wellenkuppe 12,850 ft. This peak is just right for
limbering up on. It has steep rocks and snow, and this year
olent wi tee.

At 4 a.m. ton Saturday p Robert Jir ce and ilī.šet Off Lor
the Zinal Rothorn, making for the crest of the South East
spur. We climbed quickly and soon gained the crest. The ridge
was a glorious one to tread. We had plenty of snow and
ourcrampons gave us confidence, for the crest is narrow but
the exposure great.

The East Ridge joins ours and we crossed the South face
to an ice filled Couloir. This Couloir is one of the.difficult
stages and it is very steep and exposed. After crossing 1%, .-We
climbed up steep but easy rocks to the Gabel.

The Gabel is a gap in the ridge between a Gendarme on the
Rothorn Grat and the Main summit. At the Gabel we were joined
by a Swiss Climber, whom I had offered our rope lower down.
The Swiss Climber, who knew the mountain, then led to the
summit. Leaving the Gabel we rounded the Biner Platte. As
there was much ice, it was technically difficult getting off
this dab. From here the route goes straight up to the rest of
the ridge. The route is steep and very exposed.

A little way along the ridge we reached the Gendarme
which is the most sensational part of the climb.

I had heard of the giddy traverse round this, now we would
have the experience. The Gendarme is traversed on the east
side and the holds are good. There is a bulge which makes it
imperative for the climber to look down and see where to place
his feet. Looking between his legs the climber can see the
roofs of Zermatt, over 8,000 feet below. It is really guite
easy and we enjoyed it immensely. The way from here is obvious
a few more rocks to negociate and at last we stood on the
summit,

Looking round from the summit can be seen the peaks which
I read about in “Peaks, Passes and Glaciers”. What a wonderful
time these Pioneers had. There were no huts they had routes to
make and virgin peaks to win. To the north lie the Schalihorn
and Weisshorn. East we have the Mischabel Group - the
Nadelhorn, Lenzspitse, Dom and Taschhorn. Then the Alphubel,
Allalinhorn, Rimphišchorn, and Strahlhorns South we see the
Monte Rosa, Lyskamm, Castor Pollox and Breithorn. Then the
Matterhorn, Dente d’Herens, Dent Blanche are seen. These are
the principal peaks, but nearer we have the Wellenkuppe, Ober

Gabelhorn and Trifthorn. Looking further afield, beyond the
Pigne D’Arolla, we see the Grand Combin and Mont Blanc. The
Grand Paradiso could also be seen above the clouds.

After eating some chocolate we set off down the rocks and
round the Gendarme. Then down the steep slope to the Biner
Platte and arrived back at the Gabel. Descending the rocks by
the side of the Couloir we had a bit of a fright. A climber
dislodged a large boulder which thundered down into the abyss.
We expected some of the other climbers to be struck. Although
there were a few parties in the line of fire no one was hurt.
We were just above the climber when he dislodged the stone and
the slope was so steep we did not see what took place. All
that we heard was the climbers shout and the noise of crashing
rock:

Crossing the Couloir was now a little dangerous. The ice
above was breaking away and whizzing down now and then.
Underfoot the ice was less reliable and great care had to be
taken to keep from a sudden slip. We crossed the Couloir one
at a time. The route now goes round some rock which one can
hold onto, then it slants up to join the crest of the ridge
once more.

We scampered along now on snow which was becoming too
soft. Reaching the place where we leave the ridge we sat and
drank some cold tea, flavoured with lemon, given to us by our
Swiss friend. It had been perfect

weather and we were all very happy, but although it was lovely
up on the ridge we had to stir ourselves. Our Swiss companion
suggested unroping. We agreed and I tied up the rope as Robert
junior, and the Swiss climber guickly raced down the snow
slopes.

Many times I had stopped to take Photographs, during the
day, which made us last off the peak. When the rope was duly
fastened and slung round my shoulder and I got underway, the
other two were well down. I slithered after them as fast as I
could and jumped the Bergschrund. Then an occasional glissade
brought me to the last run down to the hut.

We had a meal and a rest and then the 5,000 feet descent to
Zermatt. Reaching Zermatt we went into the Walliserkanne and
had a good meal. We than walked leisurely through the streets
and up the 200 feet to our tent at Winklematten.

R. Hutchieson.

There is a region of hearts desire

free for the hand that wills;

land of the shadow and haunted spire,

land of the silwery glacier fire,

land of the cloud and the starry choir,
magical land of hills;

loud with the crying of winds and streams,
thronged with the fancies and fears of dreams.
All that the wanderer’s heart can crave,
išfērjlivedotārieēdfotroitssiendāng,

hermit’s vigil in dreamlit cave,

gleams of the vision that Merlin gave,
comrades till death, and a wind-swept grave,
joy of the journey’s ending:-

Ye who have climbed to the great white veil,
heard ye the chant? Saw ye the Grail?

GoW. ta

and worse still it was accompanied by the conventional Skye
drizzle. We were pleased to learn that similar conditions had
prevailed for the past week or so. However, that night the
wind backed to the north west and we went to bed hoping for
something better the next day. So it materialised.

Although the morning was dull the canopy of cloud was
broken in places and the mist had risen to the 2,000 feet
level. Our intentions were to traverse the ridge from Sgurr na
Banachdich to Sgurr Alasdair. We ascended Banachdich by the
narrow ridge over Sgurr nan Gobhar. Delighted as we were with
the airiness of the ridge, it was only a foretaste of what was
to come. Higher up the ridge broadened and we gained the
summit of Banachdich with little incident. Here we made a
slight divergence to bag the shapely little summit of Sgurr
Thormaid before traversing the long sharp backbone of
Bannachdich.

After a dullish descent, long steep seree slopes brought
us on the the summit of Sgurr Dearg. Ahead, peering through
the mist was the unmistakeable and rather sinister outline of
the Innacessible Pinnacle. Being in the holiday mood we
favoured as our line of approach its long moderate ridge. An
easy descent over scree brought us to the base of the arete.
We roped up, Bill in the lead, myself as middleman. The mist
was rather thin now and we could feel the heat from the sun’s
rays. The first 30 feet was an easy scramble. Above, the arete
seemed smooth and exposed. I personally was very conscious of
the airiness of the climb. On our left was almost vertical
cliff 100 feet high: To the right, the drop; >as far: as:we Were
concerned was of infinite length. The angle of ascent was
fairly low but nevertheless we found the climb rather
sensational. Here was a "Munro" with a difference. The summit
block could only accommodate a single person. For the descent
our positions on the rope were reversed. I had no complaints,
I was middleman. We found the descent enjoyable as we were
learning quickly the lichen-like quality of gabro.

A short rise from the base of the pinnacle brought us to
the summit of An Stac. Here we witnessed a most awe-inspiring
scene. All around us great rents of blue were appearing in the
mist, and, here and there weird shares were piercing the gloom
where seconds before was nought but a grey lifeless vacuity.
The mist was dispersing. For the next half hour or so chaos
reigned in

the Cuillin. It was a fantastic sight. An indescribable
jumble of mountain and cloud with an occasional blink of sun
sparkled waters. Across the Gulf of Glen Sligachan the great
peak of Blaven floated on a sea of restless cloud.

We moved on. The descent of the steepish buttress of An
Stac gave us no difficulty and much enjoyment. Sgurr Mhic
Coinnich was gained with ease. We had trouble in locating the
ledge of Collie’s Route which bye-passed the vertical cliff
below the summit. This ledge eventually brought us to the
Nhic Coinnich, Thearlaich col. The rise on to Sgurr
Thearlaich was sharp and gave us pleasant scrambling. First
of all a short overhanging wall had to be surmounted, then a
series of slabs.led upwards to ā razor-sharp arete of perfect
gabro. 3,000 feet below us Coir-uisg was very easy On the
eye. A green floor set between high rock walls. The famous
Loch Coruisk was deep sea green in colour. Beyond it the sea
Was a brilliant pius-

The descent from the peak was steep and I can remember
jumping down a 10 foot high overhanging wall. Thereafter an
easy scramble led to the highest point on the Cuillin, Sgurr
Alasdair. The view was magnificent, although many of the
mainland hills were hidden in banks of fair weather cloud.
There- wás not ā'breath of wind'to disturb the stillness of
the scene. Westwards over the shimmering waters of the Minch,
the long low line of the Outer Hebrides marked the meeting of
sea and sky, while to the south rising from a sea of deep
blue, the islands of the Inner Hebrides were swathed in
sunlight. Nearer at hand the spiky Cuillin pinnacles
dominated the scene. Eastwards the eye roamed over a thousand
cloud capped bens, out of which only the cloud girded bulk of
Nevis seemed familiar. Below, the green trough of Glen
Brittle was in direct contact to the grey and purple hues
which give these mountains their name; The Black Cuillin.

With reluctance we made our way down the tricky western
ridge. The renowned Bad Step, where accidents have occurred
in the past was descended with difficulty.

Sgurr Sgumain, our last top for the day was gained with
ease. We chose the Sgumain Stone Shoot as our route of
descent into Coire Lagan. This, although giving us ‘a fairly
quick descent, was not a good scree run. We found the Coire
highly impressive, surrounded on almost all sides by towering
Slates.

Its greatest feature was, however, the tiny lochan with its
sandy shore. On descending the muddy and well marked track
from Coire Lagan we were amazed to find Glen Brittle hidden
under a uniform layer of white cloud. The cloud belt was a
few hundred feet thick, sufficiently thick to deny the glen
the heat and blistering sunshine which we had enjoyed on the
ridges. Truly, it is a hellish place.

Our first day on Cuillin was over. It had been a wonderful

introduction.
James W. Douglas.

HIGH HILLS.
There is.much comfort. in high Miels,
and a great easing of the heart.

We look upon them and our nature fills
with loftier images from their life apart.
They set our feet on curves of freedom, bent
to snap the circles of our discontent.
Mountains are moods; of larger rhythm and line,
moving between the eternal mode and mine.
Moments in thought, of which I too am part,
I lose in them my instant of brief ills, -
There is great easing of the heart,

and cumulance of comfort on high hills.

es T:

THE WEISSHORN.

The Weisshorn looked ethereal in the evening light. The
hut Warden, Jimmy and I, were standing out on the balcony of
the Dom Hut taking turns in looking at the Weisshorn through
the Warden’s telescope. We plied him with questions about
the mountain we so longed to climb. It looked fierce and its
legends were of stalwarts turned back and men like Franz
Lochmatter hurled from its ridges to their death; but was it
really«so.difficult?.“It.is- not so. dangerous gs the
Matterhorn. It is hard but there is less danger of falling
stones. It is steep, but not draped with ropes and chains.
There are seldom many parties on it. It is the finest
mountain in the valley! If you are capable of tackling the
Arbengratt of the Ober Gabelhorn you should manage to climb
the Weisshorn.”

That night, not once did I think of the Dom I was to
climb in the morning, I spent the whole night dreaming about
the Weisshorn!

Three days later we were plodding slowly up to the
Weisshorn hut and the weather was dreadful. I was suffering
from “Weisshorn Nerves”. It seemed foolish to be heading for
such a hard climb when the weather was so bad. However, just
as we left Ober Rotiboden, about half way to the hut, we met
two members of the American Alpine Club and a Guide, who
said that conditions were grim - loads of new snow on the
rocks - but they had managed the climb, and it had been well
worth it. This cheered me up a little, but at the hut just
before dark, a guide and his client came staggering in
absolutely shattered and this re-dampened my Spirits.

Nē S1986B:s::+: a night torn by doubts..... then a fresh
starry morning and crampons over the frozen Glacier, Bix of
us set out. Two Swiss lads took the original route which
goes up a moraine-like arete abutting the main ridge, whilst
four of us, all British, decided to reach the East Ridge by
means of a steep snow couloir to the sight of the usual
route. (This couloir is usually avoided because of rock
avalanches, but due to a phenomonal amount of snow on the
mountain, the stonefall was negligible.

This couloir ended abruptly at a point some 15 minutes
from the “place du déjeuner” and a fairly easy scramble led
onto the true East Ridge. Here we were well ahead of the
Swiss-en-the ordinary-routes

The ridge rose in huge steps above us, but looked
absolutely wonderful. It was of rough red granite in the
form

Of gendarmes; ice and snow lay on every ledge. We stopped
near the foot of the grande Gendarme and here we had a snack
whilst removing our crampons. All six of us were together at
this point, and we looked with great interest at the huge
pinnacle before us. To take it direct (unless one is Of
Frank Huggin’s stature) the normal procedure is to lassoo a
rock spike and so manoeuvre oneself over a smooth
unclimbable section near the top. To bye-pass the Gendarme,
the route is to the left hand side, where one descends about
15 feet and then climbs up a long steep groove and so back
to the ridge. Today this looked a loathsome place as the
groove was draped with ice. We looked to the right and here
saw that the snow and ice had formed a passage just
underneath the overhang of the Mauvais Pas.

The Swiss set off up the nose of the Gendarme and we
watched them for a while as they tried in vain to make the
crux. To save time we enventually decided to try the right
hand side.

The dangers of the place were obvious so I led, as
Jimmy could have held me if our ice ledge collapsed whereas
I could possibly not have held Jimmy! I made my way very
gingerly, and by using tiny stones frozen in the ice T moved
for about 30 feet across and up this sloping ice ledge (all
above a fantastic drop, sheer to the Bies Gletcher) then at
last, 10 feet of real rock and a fat belay! Jimmy came up in
seconds and away we went along yet another fearfully narrow
ice arete. The climbing was never hard but the drops on
either side were so tremendous that great care was needed.
We led through continuously, taking belays whenever
possible.

Another Gendarme - all overhangs - but well supplied
with jug handles - another razor edged arete then at last,
the final Gendarme, different from the rest in as much as it
was made up of loose slatey rock, steep and covered with
snow. It was climbed by its right hand face.

The summit of the Weisshorn was now only two hours
away, according to the guide book. Only glittering snow and
ice lay between us and our goal!

What a snow ridge stretched before us! We set off ona
very narrow arete double corniced for 40 yards, where we
crept along hardly daring to breathe.

Here, the rocks rising sheer from the Schalli Gletscher
formed one side of the arete and glittering ice swept down
to the Bies Gletscher on the other side. Further on, because
of immense cornices, we were obliged to take a line slightly
to the right and over-—looking the Bies Gletscher.

With ease we crossed two large Bergschrunds well filled
in with snow and though in places ice was found beneath a
dusting of snow, our crampefis and a flick of the axe were
all that was necessary to give us sure footing.

We were now very near the summit! A short scramble over
snow dusted rocks, a few more steps in the snow and then -
the top - as wonderful as its description! Tiny, snow
covered, and the meeting point of the three famous ridges.

The Schalligrat looked impossible, the north ridge not
much better and our ridge, the east ridge. Had we really
come up such a ghastly steep 5810pe?..:...... and the drops on
either side? (‘Now, now, just calm yourself Pat and look at
the view, you’ll manage down O.K. when the time comes”.)

The peaks around us looked magnificent and we could
quite happily have spent an hour or so looking at them Sic,
already clouds were touching the top of Monte Rosa and the
Matterhorn had vanished.

At that moment we witnessed a peculiar natural
phenomena. Quite suddenly the otherwise level cloud was
drawn down over the peak of the Alphubel in the form of a
gigantic Vortex. It was. obvious that a violent Focal storm
was raging just across the valley and we hastened to
descend.

Our ascending steps were rotten. Often we were poised
directly over the precipitous east face where it bites into
the true line of the ridge and often there was no safe hold-
ing for the axe.

At the bifurcation of routes the two English boys chose
to descend the couloir. We descended the ordinary route
because we mistrusted the snow in the couloir and also
thought it would be good to know the other route for any
future expedition.

Imagine a 1,000 metre high moraine covered with huge
rocks, wet snow and mud, add tremendous exposure and you
have this ridge we were now about to climb, slide, and creep
down. Certainly never difficult, only wearisome and somewhat
rough on the seat of ones pants.

The English boys had a rough time in the couloir. Snow
had avalanched leaving ice runnels. They were in danger of
stone avalanches and yet were unable to progress, but
slowly, on such dangerous ground.

On the path to the hut, I looked back. The Weisshorn
was wreathed in a dense black cloud. It was snowing! We had
been blessed with just sufficient time to climb the mountain
and no more, not even time to say ‘Auf Wiedersehen’.

A quick meal in the hut; a 1% hour run down to Randa; a
gulped steaming hot coffee; a mad dash for the train; then
Zermatt and the Walaiserkanne.

P. Hamilton.

The Treasure of Heights.

SEEK them, ye strong,
the cold of morning and the mountain wind.
Through sun and whispering spray
there lies one open way
for Manhood stadde toi find
the lamp of vision and the river of song:
seek them for truth, ye strong.
Take them, O heart,
the joy of comrades and the thrill of strife.
Who has the hills for friend
has a God-speed to end
his path of lonely life,
and wings of golden memory to depart:
take them for love, true heart.

G.W. 1.

Odd Hours in The Gorms.

The big thunderstorm on the Friday held up the bus a
bit, so it was well after eight when we got away for the
long week-end to the Cairngorms in June, 1953 (you never
know when this journal will come out). There was no stopping
at St. Ninians but time for a bite at the roadhouse in Perth
and we reached Inverey, or the humphy backit brig at any
rate, about one. Most of us went up Derry Way and camped at
the usual spot a mile or so beyond the gate but Archie and I
had a motionitofsarry ot to Corrour. Chēride wasn So.-keen
and we talked it over for an hour and a half, even losing
the toss, starting to get the tent out but we had a bottle
Of wine andi.i.. Ss Well, it was 6.45 when we staggered up to
the bothy and as there were two folk sleeping in it we hada
drum in the open, then went in and fell souna asleep as soon
as we were in the sacks.

We only meant to have a few hours doss and when I
wakened about 10. 30am. the sun was beating down outside so
we cooked our breakfast and got ready for action. The
Shelter Stone was mentioned quite a lot, so was the
Cairntoul/Braeriach round and heaven help me, so was the
idea of lugging our packs with us. I made tentative
suggestions about taking them up the Lang a bit and then
doing the round but was told a bit of pack humphing would
train me up for Chamonix the following week.

At this moment John Rice and Jimmy Thomson arrived and
continued up the Deil’s Point (complete with gear) so that
settled things. We never caught up with them all day but
kept the distance fairly even throughout.

We slanted up to the left of the Bealach between the
Devil’s Point and Cairntoul discarding bits of clothing when
we started peching. When we reached the ridge all we wore
were boots and trousers rolled up as far as they would go.
It was only a matter of minutes to the summit of Devil’s
Point and though the sun was bright enough here clouds were
lying on MacDhui and more were on the way from the South. We
split up on the way to Cairntoul, Archie and myself going
round the back of Coire an t-Saighdeir to save height,
Charlie following round the rim. We won.

I hadn’t been on Cairntoul for years and had forgotten
what a shapely peak it was. The last time was when we had
crossed from, Glen Einich to Courrour and had a wonderful
day above the clouds with only the peaks showing through.

Today, however, was more true to form for a plooter
started and kept up for about an hour. We finished the wine
here too. We had been licking our lips thinking about it on
the drag up, but honestly these bottles are a helluva
weight. Merde, is it worth it?

With the rain and mist we didn’t see much of the ridge
though it started to thin out after we reached Sgor an
Lochan Vaine. We did hear yoo-hoos though but didn’t find
out till the following night that it was Robbie Hutchison
and Robert putting paid to the last of the Cairngorm Munros.
At the bealach before the rise towards Braeniach the rain
stopped and patches of blue showed through. The Garbh Coire
Nor on our right was quite an impressive sight with its
slabs, pinnacles and gullies and what had looked like a snow
patch from a distance now turned out to be a muckle snow
field. The sun came out again as we made for the massive
plateau of Braeriach and snow filled the depression where
the infant Dee makes its way from the Wells to its dash over
the cliffs into the Garbh Coire and in contrast to the
gravel and bareness were clumps of moss campion, pink dots
in the desert.

We spent some time above the cliffs of Coire Brochain,
picking out routes, taking photographs and lazing in the
sun. Lochan Uaine across the corrie was an inky blue pool
amidst orange scree and rocks, but as we had decided to make
for the Shelter Stone by now we didn’t waste much time but
upped to the summit of Braeriach and down to the Bealach
between it and Sron na Lang. There was a path of sorts and
also pieces of aeroplane neatly stacked here and there. The
route led us over a snow bed and we saw footprints which we
surmised belonged to Rice and Thomson. These went south
however, so we slithered down towards the pools’ of Dee, our
intention being to cross over to Loch Avon by the March
Burn. Two tents were pitched in the Lang near the pools and
at the latter spot we found two seagulls, one of them very
playful in a vicious sort of way with its pal. We spent an
hour here, stocking up calories for the grind to come, this
plod up the March Burn. Still, this was guite enjoyable for
the sunset North through the Larig was a misty crimson, Sron
„na Lang and the Lurcher's Crag forming grape-blue side
curtains. On the plateau all was quiet, and here one felt
the vastness of the Cairngorms, the remoteness and solitude.
This was not altogether surprising as it was now about 11.00
p.m. and though the gloaming still lingered faintly, there
was the descent to be made to Loch Avon. We started off down
the Feith Buidhe but wandered a bit and landed on a slabby
rock face where I was pleased to find my first-time—out

Vibrams took a grip - ēven on wet rock. It was just on
midnight when we reached the Shelter Stone and it was
occupied by seven Lomonds. As they didn't budge an inch we
retreated to the upper annexe and sgueezed ourselves into
it. In spite of having been on the go for 24 hours (apart
from the doss at Corrour) I wakened at 3.30 and Loch Avon
looked so fine in the dawn that I got up to have a smoke. I
also noted appreciatively the letters E 1 R lettered in
chuckies on top of the Stone. Archie and Charlie wakened
too, so we had a discussion for half an hour before dropping
off again, taking up new positions to avoid scraping our
faces on the roof whenever we turned.

When we woke again we found the Stone inhabitants
finishing breakfast and they left soon after, five going
back via the Larig; the two Andys by Loch Avon. We chose the
usual route by Loch Etchachan and it was a very pleasant, if
uneventful, trip. Sunny, warm and plenty of time to wander
back. The only incident was the two girls (with escort) we
met in Glen Derry clad for the day in near Bikinis. We
didn’t notice if they wore climbing boots. Oh, there was a
lift in a wee lorry all the way from Derry to the camp. A
very obliging driver this, who picked up everyone though
Maisie was so far ahead from the rest she didn’t reap the
full advantage. Back at camp everyone showed various degress
of suntan, the President especially being a dazzling bright
tomato. It was very hot by now so we all had a dook in the
Derry, and it had no numbing effects no matter how long you
stayed in. When we got back to Inverey we found the bus at
the Hostel. Roger had got it over the humphy—backit brig and
the return jounney proved that this is quite feasible
KK a after the passengers get out.

Now, if we could get it up to Derry Lodge wouldn't that be
something? This week-end was one the best since the session
at Glen Lyon last October. Remember?

Ken McLaren.

The faith of a mountaineer is and must be that a life
lost in the legitimate pursuit of our aims is not a life
thrown away, but the forfeit of a stake set for an exceeding
great reward, the rendering up of a soul to the hills that
made it a worthy sacrifice.

Charles Donald Robertson

MIS- i=o1GB49E aay

In all my Mountaineering days I have generally been my
own guide, but on occasion I have just followed somebody’ s
party. I have watched their mistakes and even got lost with
them and have had many miles put.on the days climbing. I
slipped up in this way in Austria this year.

In the Sulzenerhutte we met Karl, Otto, Evi and Mitze,
and the following morning we crossed over the Pieljoch to
the Dresdener Hutte with them. We only took about 3 hours so
we had plenty of time to laze and sunbathe and wisecrack all
afternoon with them. Next day I had intended climbing the
Zucherhutle 3511 M but before I had made my plans, Karl
said, “Tomorrow Johnny, we climb the Great Zucherhutle, we
go for early sleep, tomorrow at 4 a.m. we start” Geo. nad
good party of Austrian mountaineers, with free guides, no
map reading, just an easy day with hopes of seeing some fine
ice and snow craft.

About 3 a.m. Karl woke us, he was all keyed up and
looking very important, I just managed to get the stove
going and get a cup of tea, then off we started. It was very
misty but promised a good day.

We had only gone about a guarter of a mile when we came
to a little Glacier stream which had a wooden plank about
one foot wide over it. I did not like the look of it; with
vibrams you have to be careful. Otto just made a run for at
and somersaulted onto the rocks on the other side, the whole
plank was covered with a thin layer of ice. Luckily he did
not hurt himself very much, but we had quite a job of
getting the rest of the party across.

We then came to a steep ridge of moraine about 1,000
feet high. Instead of the steady mountaineers pace, they
tore up like greyhounds, it was anything but pleasant
keeping up at this speed. Then: we reached the glacier, which
must have been about 2 miles long, and ahead were two cols.
Without checking they made straight for one of them and I
had a feeling they were making a mistake.

On reaching the col they had the map out and were not
looking very happy. Below was the Hildesheimer Hutte and the
Pfannen Glacier with the Zucherhutle well on our left. Karl
said. "keep on your crampons we traverse to the next LX Pī
But I knew this would not help us very much, anyway when we
reached it I was right. Otto was now fed up, because he said
his leg was hurting him and returned to the Hutte where he
had left Mitze.

Vibrams took a grip - even on wet rock. It was just on
midnight when we reached the Shelter Stone and it was
occupied by seven Lomonds. As they didn't budge an inch we
retreated to the upper annexe and sgueezed ourselves into
it. In spite of having been on the go for 24 hours (apart
from the doss at Corrour) I wakened at 3.30 and Loch Avon
looked so fine in the dawn that I got up to have a smoke. I
also noted appreciatively the letters E 1 R lettered in
chuckies on top of the Stone. Archie and Charlie wakened
too, so we had a discussion for half an hour before dropping
off again, taking up new positions to avoid scraping our
faces on the roof whenever we turned.

When we woke again we found the Stone inhabitants
finishing breakfast and they left soon after, five going
back via the Larig; the two Andys by Loch Avon. We chose the
usual route by Loch Etchachan and it was a very pleasant, if
uneventful, trip. Sunny, warm and plenty of time to wander
back. The only incident was the two girls (with escort) we
met in Glen Derry clad for the day in near Bikinis. We
didn't notice if they wore climbing boots. Oh, there was a
lift in a wee lorry all the way from Derry to the camp. A
very obliging driver this, who picked up everyone though
Maisie was so far ahead from the rest she didn’t reap the
full advantage. Back at camp everyone showed various degress
of suntan, the President especially being a dazzling bright
tomato. It was very hot by now so we all had a dook in the
Derry, and it had no numbing effects no matter how long you
stayed in. When we got back to Inverey we found the bus at
the Hostel. Roger had got it over the humphy—backit brig and
the return jounney proved that this is quite feasible
PE = after the passengers get out.

Now, if we could get it up to Derry Lodge wouldn't that be
something? This week-end was one the best since the session
at Glen Lyon last October. Remember?

Ken McLaren.

The faith of a mountaineer is and must be that a life
lost in the legitimate pursuit of our aims is not a life
thrown away, but the forfeit of a stake set for an exceeding
great reward, the rendering up of a soul to the hills that
made it a worthy sacrifice.

Charles Donald Robertson

T said, “What now Karl? knowing that we were going to lose a
great deal of height. "Traverse the rock face and get down
to the Pfannen Glacier" he said.

The whole place was very loose with rotten rock, we
must have sent down tons of it and once or twice nearly went
along with it, but at least saved ourselves some height and
at last reached the Glacier. There was still a long climb up
and all put on unnecessarily through this mistake. However,
at last we reached the final slopes and the summit.

Then for some tucker and a fag. Agnes smoked four
to make up for lost time. The day was beautiful and we just
lay about and had a very fine view of the surrounding
nountains. Karl was very pleased that he had managed to
guide us to the Gross Zucherhutle, but it was now time that
the Lomond Bergsteiger took charge. I told him I was leading
on the way back and we set off. After we had descended from
the Summit, I made straight across the high glacier to the
continuation Of The tock: ridge which T :folbewed:tilbstt
levelled off to the glacier. Here I found the right col, it
even has fixed ropes, which are great time savers.

We descended on to a small glacier, a left branch of
the one we had descended in the morning and in no time we
were back on the ridge of moraine that leads down to the
Dresdener Hutte. It was now 4 o’clock in the afternoon and
we had been out 12 hours. We had only taken about three
hours to descend and I am sure the whole trip could be done
in seven or eight hours.

Karl and Evi had the speed of greyhounds, but had a lot
to learn on route finding on the mountains, but they were
really good company and we spent many more days with them,
on the Austrian Mountains.

I had a good scout around the district which will come in
useful for any of the Clup visiting the district in Ene
future.

Jön “Harvey:

A Famous Quatrain of Tennyson's.

How faintly-flusn'd, how phantom = fair,
as Monte Rosa, hanging there

A thousand shadowy-pencill‘d valleys
And snowy dells in a golden air.

A Possible New Route on Ben Nevis

(North East Buttress)

On 25° August; 1955, David Johnson and myself climbed
an unknown route on the right hand wall of the North East
BUCUFPĒSY.

It Jay u short distance tothe left of the “Straight
Left” route and was about 800 feet long. It took the form of
a slab which ran- up the face for about 250 feet then bulged
out forming quite a formidable obstacle. The standard is
about mild severe and balance is needed as the holds slope
the wrong way. In nails it should be quite difficult (we
wore Vibrams).

The first three pitches are the hardest with the third
being the crux, and each ‘one is a full .+zU teet munout,
The bēlays are to be found 10 feet to 15 geet to weit ofthe
route in a crack formed by a vertical wall joining the slab
at right angles. They all consist of rather doubtful
chockstones, but have guite good stances (we found that full
weight nylon just made it, lighter ropes would be much
easier to handle).

After the first 400 feet the standard drops to about
difficult and gives very enjoyable climbing on easy rocks
with a wonderful sense of height. Once past the crux bear
right until you reach another vertical wall which is on your
right thes wine:

At the foot of the climb we scratched an arrow to show
the route. Another aid to finding it is a patch of snow
which, in summer, lies almost directly below it.

Tony Garnan.
For Those Abroad.

From the lone shieling on the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas -
Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides.
Anon.

Alpine Note.

Zermatt has been.a deservedly popular summer rendezvous
for members of the club for some years past and if present
trends sontinue Atë popularity will long continue.

The following extract from the S.A.C. guide book
describes the route for one of the lesser known peaks in the
area. It may be of use to those who either can not afford a
guide book or are unable to translate the one they have.

The translator has endeavoured to follow the original French
text closely and to avoid ambiguity but will accept no
responsibility for the dependants of any one who loses the
routes,

"The Matterhorn by the Hornli Ridge”.

-“It is the longest of the ridges of the Matterhorn but
one can follow it nearly to the summit ridge. It is almost
entirely rocky from its base until the shoulder, forming a
number of gendarmes which have never been climbed.

The east face is much less steep than the north face
and one holds nearly always to this face. The rock is not
too solid; but is pretty easy when it. is dry.

The shoulder corresponds with that of the furggen to
which it is linked by almost horizontal parallel ledges, but
is less ‘obvious than that of the Italian ridge (which. forms
the Pic Tyndall). Above this shoulder some fixed ropes ease
the trickiest passages.

This is the most frequented route on the Matterhorn and
on angoed day in summer -it.aig nob rane -to+see 10 to.1o
parties climbing. In this case falling. stones constitute the
principal danger. The parties generally leave the hut at 2
or 3 asms°and-climb by lantern until above the old -hut. or
sometimes to the Solway. When the rocks are dry the tracks
are easy to follow but the route is complicated because it
has little definite character. We have given a very detailed
description which every one can interpret to his own taste.

From the Hornli hut a path follows the rubbishy brow
until «the. feot -o£athe «rocks. The firstopiteh, (about
15M) climbs obliguely from right to left (north to south).
Climb next 10 metres directly then obliquely to the left to
arrivesat anfirst-coulLoir ofskreken-rubbisū goming.from.the
ridge. Traverse the couloir to reach a second couloir
(danger of falling stones) climb it for 25 to 30 metres
only, thence coming out to the left by a chimney - to an

obligue couloir dominated by an overhang. Come again to the
right and climb more or less directly (parallel to the
second couloir) until the summit ridge (1 hour).

Follow the Arete for 15 to 20 minutes then traverse
horizontally some fifty metres into the east face until the
point where one gains the old route at the start of a ledge
which mounts obliguely into the face and which is called Der
elive Fatt. (Elive = appearance or brownish colour of the
rocks crossed by this obvious ledge). Follow the ledge until
its top, then climb rightwards towards the Arete until
within 20 to 30 metres of the Arete. Obliguely anew to the
left to the Eseltritte, a rocky cliff which one climbs until
50 metres below the Arete. Bearing anew to the left gain the
foot of a gloomy tower when one will find the ruins of the
old hut (1 hour). Turn the tower to the left and climb for
about 5 minutes towards the Arete then obliguely for a time
more to the left and reach a rocky cliff from where the
Solway hut is visible. One then comes into a sort of stoney
corrie, the spot called IM GEBIS (probably because of the
difficulty in case Of ice). Skirt the corrie for about 15
minutes until one comes nearer to being vertically below the
Solway. (Falling Stones). In climbing directly towards this
hut one arrives at the Moselyplatte. After having climbed
this slab (on the right in the corner) one then reaches the
Solway hut 4003 by the north corner of its terrace (3/4 H).

From the hut traverse some steps horizontally to the
left. Climb the upper slab (ober moselyplatte) then climb
almost directly to the Arete. Follow the ‘Arete until a
reddish tower (Rotter Turm) about 10 metres high which one
turns to the left to reach the Arete immediately above.
Follow the Arete then to the shoulder (Schulter Axle) that
is to say until the foot of the slope of snow or ice which
covers it.

Climb this slope and holding slightly to the left of
the ridge, reach the snowy crest from where one discovers
the formidableness of the north face of the peak. Follow the
crest of the shoulder until the point where it butts against
the head of the Matterhorn. There one will meet with first a
vertical wall of 6 to 7 metres height pretty difficult
(climb on the left) then a pitch of about 30 metres. One
will find on the north face a Chain and ‘a-rope~-to surmounta
slab (% hour). Immediately above some fixed ropes ease the
climbing of some rugged steep rocks (called red rocks). One
comes thus on to a less steep slope (Unter Pack) and one
will find in the rubbish a veritable path leading to the
Swiss summit (50 minutes). Allow about 5 to 6 from hut and 4
hours for the descent.”

J. Hamilton.

A Night on Ben Nevis.

On Hogmanay we travelled by bus together with the
Glenmore Club on our way to Fort William.

The main topic of conversation was, would we reach the
Hostel before midnight? Above the murmur of voices could be
heard a medley of old Scots songs which seemed strangely to
intermingle with the moonlight shining across Loch Lomond.

On arrival at Fort William, west mo time am
preparing a meal, in the midst of which the Warden came in
to wish us all the best for the New Year. Needless to say we
lost no ‘time producing a little .f the “Hata Stuff C The
Hostel had a very festive and homelike appearance due to the
efforts of some of the Glenmore and Ardgartan Club Members.
Some of the Company retired, those who remained sat on
discussing the possibility of spending the following night
on the summit of Nevis (weather permitting).

January the first was a day of great promise, with
early morning sunshine and a crystal clear sky. During
breakfast we decided to split into two parties one of which
went on ahead. We, of the remaining party, followed later
threading our way up the pathway of Ben Nevis. We had to
proceed with caution owing to large ice patches which
retarded our progress. However, we eventually reached the
snow fields.

As the afternoon wore on, some of our party began to
show signs of fatigue; “this “could besatUpibuted ‘to<the
softness of the snow for at each step one sank deeply. This
was aggravated by the additional weight of our packs. We
stopped frequently to rest, and in doing so we could not
fail to admire the glory of the sinking sun setting each
mountain top aglow with a fiery red, while down in the
valley could be seen the twinkling lights of Fort William.
However, we had to tear ourselves away from all this beauty
ascnignt was -rapidlyselesing Paoupon us:

As we plodded on feeling a little dispirited we heard a
shout and on peering towards the summit ridge, we could
discern three figures silhouetted against the skyline
advancing towards us. In a matter of minutes they had joined
us and relieved some of the party of their packs. From then
onwards we made rapid progress to the summit.

On reaching the plateau, we found ourselves in the
throes of an icy blast. With heads bent against the wind we
pressed on and at last our goal was in view - The
Observatory - our camp for the night. We were most grateful
to our advance party for their efforts in making it possible
for us to enter the Observatory. We crawled into our
shelter; it was impossible to do otherwise as the snow was
lying at a depth of over three feet inside. Our first
thought was for a hot drink which we made by putting
handfuls of snow in our cans.

After our "Drum up" we wasted no time in getting into
our sleeping bags. We lay long, discussing many subjects as
is the habit of Mountaineers. Many of the party dropped off
to sleep leaving some of us to be entertained by the
grotesque appearance of the sleepers in their balaclavas,
bits of fur draped around their faces and hoods of rainbow
hue, they were unconsciously funny. The scene was enhanced
by dancing shadows as the candle light played upon the snow
caked walls and icicle draped rafters.

Being unable to sleep, two of us stole out into the
night to stretch our legs after our cramped conditions. What
a glorious night! A full moon shone in a cloudless sky
surrounded by myriads of stars and around us were snow
capped mountains stretching into the far distance. Nature
had excelled herself in beauty and grandeur. It was indeed a
sight not to be easily forgotten.

Reluctantly we retraced our steps and, feeling tired
slipped into our sleeping bags.

Morning found us very loath to leave the comfort of our
sleeping bags for the artic regions outside and we lingered
long over breakfast discussing plans for the day. As
opinions were divided, we split into small groups, some
going snow climbing and others taking advantage of the ideal
conditions for photography. Those of us who were left packed
the gear in preparation for the descent. Leaving the
Observatory around mid-day we made our way down, taking
advantage of the fine conditions for glissading. We arrived
by easy stages back to the Hostel where we were joined later
by the rest of our party.

L. Travers.

New Climbs in the Campsies.

In the past two summer seasons, Tony Garnan and I have
endeavoured to set up some new routes on the Campsies around
Jenny’s Lum. We have succeeded to a certain extent, but only
as far as the nature of the rock allows. The standard of
these small climbs varies between V-diff. and V.S. in
rubbers.

The first climb made was on the wall inunediately to
the right of Jenny‘s Lum and I think it would have peon
ascended before but for the doubtful appearance of the rock.
It is called route <bi Whe .štandandass VVediif. and the wall
is quite vertical. The route follows sound rock but finishes
on a turfy ledge. Its length is about 40 feet. A variation
to this route was made by Tony; it follows an oblique crack
springing from the foot of the chimney itself, and runs
diagonally right to cross -route 4! atsacpaint cabout (10 feet
from the top of the face, length about 25 feet. It is called
Route 1 variation and the standard is severe in vibs.

Facing Jenny’s Lum is another deep chimney with a large
block jammed in it. To the left of the base of this chimney
is an open groove which Tony, who first ascended it , called
“Shattered Crack”. This climb. follows the very Obvious
groove which is about 30 feet long the standard being severe
in vibs. The crux is at the top, in a very cramped position
the climber must ascend a V-shaped groove by facing the true
right wall; progress is made by a chimneying manoeuvre.

Another face which has been ascended, but which cannot
be claimed as a true ascent, is the wall to the right of
Jenny’s Lum Arete. This was ascended with a rope from above,
but the climber who shall remain anonymous, "peeled" near
the middle of the route.

The more recent climbs which were made in September
with the last of the fine weather, and have not been
ascended since. We find that, absolutely dry conditions are
imperative for the next two routes which are of high
standard of Diftticulty.

sunset Groove:

This very hard climb carries seven pitons of which six are
needed for direct aid. The first 15 feet follows a crack
springing from the base of the red wall, to the iert of
Jenny’s Lum.

It is climbed by minute holds on either side of the
crack to a small platform where there is a piton. From
that Point the route is obvious, running up a groove
for 15 feet then traverse left for 4 feet and straight
to the top. The ascent has only been made once and took
a weekend! The actual time spent on the rock was about
4 hours. It should be noted that it is a dangerous and
exposed route, most of the pitons being inserted in
unstable rock and the climber has to hoist himself over
them where these are no natural holds.

Length 55 feet Vie. in rubbers
First ascent - J. Eccles

Jacob's Dilemma.

This route lies in the corner of Jacob’s Ladder. It is
an extremely complicated and strenuous route and has been
ascended only once, unroped, by Tony.

Start on the broad ledge and climb the corner towards a
crack on non-existed holds, then turn left again back to the
true arete and move up a few feet to an impassable bulge.
Below the bulge move left on to a very smooth and steep
face. Climb this and finish to the right, back on the
corner.

Length 28 feet Višsat Vibrams:
First ascent - L. Garman
Summary.
Route 1 60 feet V-diff John Eccles
Route 1 Variation 25 feet severe vibs Tony Garnan
Crack 30 feet severe vibs Tony Garnan
Sunset Groove 55. feet V.5..1n.cūbBbers John Eccles

Jacob's Dilemma 25-30 feet V.S.in rubbers Tony Garnan

Club Rooms - Convenor's Remarks.

Without a doubt one of the most important events of the
history of the Club has been the acguisition of our new Club
Rooms at 5 Melrose Street. For this the Club is in debt to the
Honourary President John Harvey, for his untiring efforts on
our behalf. Thank you, John.

A lot of work has been put into the rooms since we first
arrived and the place is now looking spick and span. Members
are to be congratulated on the way they have buckled to. Of
course, there is still a fair amount yet to be done and
members wishing to put in a night's work thould contact any
member of the room's committee to make their arrangements.

All the lectures have been extremely well attended and
this season’s programme was given a good start by club member
Robbie Hutchison, whose show on the Swiss Valleys South of the
Rhone was up to the high standard we have come to expect of
him. To Miss Betty Stark and Mr. Tom Weir we are indeed
indebted for their fine lectures. Miss Stark’s account of
Travels in the Himalayas through the eyes of a woman (or was
it three women) was indeed memorable. We look forward to the
publication of their book which we understand is due in the
bookshops sometime in the spring. Tom Weir’s show taking us
out into the lesser known climbing areas of Yugoslavia and
Algeria was much appreciated and we are indeed grateful to
this seasoned and much travelled climber.

Other shows to come for this seasons programme promise to
be interesting and particulars of these are to be obtained
from the syllabus.

Lectures have to be prepared well in advance and the
rooms committee are now on the look out for next seasons show.
Any new names, either members or non-members, would be
welcome.

Those with long memories (or diaries) may be interested
to know that for our next dance we will be back at the

Cranworth. The Date? Friday 30 November, 1956.

A. Kay.

CLUB NOTES.

Most members will, no doubt, have seen the excellent new
"Cobbler Guide" recently published with the co-operation of
the Creag Dhu M.C. Many of the new climbs described are of
severe or harder standard, but apart at all from any
considerations of standard there are some really fine routes
to be climbed.

The younger members of the club have not been slow to take
advantage of the new book. If we get a good summer this year
some of us may even remember that we belong to a climbing club
and get cracking. (This isn’t a hint George).

Changed days at Kingshouse now that it’s under new
ownership. A fire always on in the bar and all welcome. Some
good nights were held there last year when big crowds walked
over from Meall a’ Bhuridh and again when Johnny McLennan’s
“wake” was held.

(The editor epects a free half next weekend on the

strength of the above paragraph).

To piton or not to piton that is the question - What do
Vou. tiinmk? Or do you not bother to think, but just join in the
popular condemnation of the use of ironmongery on mountains?

A piton, in a thin place with no natural belay, can be a
very useful thing, especially if it justifies an otherwise
good climb. We cannot, however, see any good reason for
putting a piton on climbs of severe or lower standard - if you
need one of these then you should stay at home!

Then, of course, you can use pitons, rope slings, pulleys
etc., to climb otherwise impossible places (that is using
pitons as a "direct aid"). Although we don't fancy this
ourselves (Piker) we aren’t bigoted about it and wish all
concerned good luck!

Did you hear — that Bert Dobbie is so disgusted with the
County Council for straightening out the bends on the loch
side that he has changed to four wheels - too easy on the
bike!

OBLTUART «

Pete Smith passed away into Matrimony on the 29” of
December, 1955.
(He must have been drunk or he wouldn't have done it).

Sunday the 29'*" January will long be remembered, by those who
were fortunate enough to be on Meall a Bhuridh, as a day of
magnificent ski-ing = li runs on the new aki tow = for free!
Certain members of the club who were on the mountain, felt
that it was their duty to sample this new form of locomotion,
im order that they could report fully to the ēlub at large. To
people like Bill Forrest, who really enjoy walking uphill,
this was a real sacrifice and one which should not pass
unrewarded.

All who sampled the tow agree that it is an innovation with a
great future and only one snag — the price! At 2/6d per run,
our afternoon’s ski-ing would have cost ..../no further pages were in
this copy of the Journal — Iain Grieve, 21° Apr 2013].